


Infinitesimal [OLD VERSION]

by TiredSmolPrince



Series: Hiraeth 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Even though most of them think of him simply as, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, S04E01 Lazarus Rising, S04E07 It's the great pumpkin sam winchester, S04E10 Heaven and Hell, S04E20 The Rapture, S04E21 When the levee breaks, S04E22 Lucifer Rising, Sam Winchester is Called Samael, Sam Winchester-centric, Uriel lives, a nameless grunt breaks the devils trap, and god, and isnt a dickhead, even though most of them treat him horribly, graphic violence warnings just in case, sammy has a ridiculous amount of faith in angels, the boy with the demon blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9299018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredSmolPrince/pseuds/TiredSmolPrince
Summary: New version will be posted soon





	

It's ironic really that the day he finds out Dean is alive is a Tuesday and Sam wonders briefly if the trickster, Loki, was fucking with him but he remembers eyes the colour of whiskey begging him silently to believe him at that mystery spot and the college and Sam thinks that perhaps it isn't Loki after all. He wonders how his brother came back as he sits in Sebastian's apartment, looking down at his phone, thumb hovering over Bobby's number so he can see if Sebastian was telling the truth when he said he heard a message,  _the message **Dean Winchester is saved**_.

Sam brushes that thought of immediately because Sebastian had only ever lied about his name, but really with a name like Balthazar, an angel’s name? He understands the weird looks that would attract, secretly he wonders if that other form of Sebastian's means he wasn't named  _after_  the angel Balthazar but  _was_  the angel. Sam snorts slightly at that wondering why such a pure being would like them, such a terrifyingly beautiful creature with the ever-shifting body of different animals like Sebastian would care for him if they were an angel.

Wondering if an angel pulled Dean out if hell, because what could if the demons refused to give him up but a holy being, his mind flickered back to his first meetings with Sebastian and Loki and the terrified blood pumping awe he had felt both times. Remembers looking at an ever-shifting mass of energy, pulsing and dancing to a tune he could never hear with multiple heads and arms of animals extinct or not of earth and Sam's breath catches in his throat as he thinks of what animals he could recognise in his friends true forms and shivers in controlled anticipation of when they will get tired of him.

Shudders slightly as he thinks back to when he met the French deity and is still amazed at how the shifting form compressed so tightly into their dorm room seemed to be bursting at the walls begging for an infinite amount more of space to stretch. Sam had only been able to name few of the animals in Sebastian's appearance, a deer, a frog, a horse then there had been hawk wings and owl wings which if he was honest is the only reason he still believes in angels after that pastors spirit they had to exorcise.

(The only reasons he still  _prays_  the reason he prays to the angel Balthazar and to the angel Samael in which he was named after and he prays to the lord oh does he pray for help for safety for a place he can be himself without fear he prays for a way to show penitence and he prays for acceptance that he will never get because demons are foul and sin incarnate and therefore he does not deserve heaven. After all who would drink demon blood willingly? Who would drink it unless they were addicted to it and he knew he wasn't because he knew addiction had felt it pulse in him the addiction of being free of orders had driven him into a state of carelessness that cost him his brother.)

Privately Samael thinks he cannot be saved not even by God and his stomach drops like he's falling, falling he can't stop himself please help he wasn't evil he wasn't Father help pleaseplea _sepleaseplease **fatheribegofyoupleasesavemeithurtsitburns**_. But he ignores this, pushes it down and knows with full certainty his two siblings would always love him, unconditionally no matter what happens.

Sam thinks of Sebastian and Loki (there had been a fox, a crow, a coyote, a lion, an owl. He remembers a third set of wings iridescent and breathtaking, remembers forgetting how to breathe and being filled with pain and longing and a sense of loss when the pagan had realised what he was looking at and done something to take away that view that made him feel like he was finally  _home_.) He only has to think of his two friends, both more of a sibling than Dean had ever been, and wonder silently to himself why hunters refuse angels existence then Sam is reminded of the demon blood running through his veins and dissolves into despondent laughter as he chokes on tears that never fall as his soul screams for help heard by none but heard by  _all of creation_  as he slowly breaks apart piece by piece.

(They try to find the crying everything tries to find it to comfort it, even the demons especially the demons and eventually only they continue looking because the screams of desolation and abandonment came from the one Hell accepts as it's true king even if Azazael pretends the throne is his and they search and search and never stop until their father is free and suddenly the cries of pain turn to relief and they know their Father and the King were meant for each other and had found each other.)

The Boy King Samael sits silent, unmoving like a statue and Balthazar–Sebastian would perhaps be worried if not for the fact they're capable of hearing every breath Sam takes, every beat of their brothers heart would be worried if they couldn't hear the blood rushing through the brunettes veins. Sebastian–Balthazar–no Sebastian sighs inaudibly as they rise from their armchair, walking almost drifting to stop beside Sam, places their hand on his arm without hesitation knowing Sam hated being treated like he was made of glass all the time and; they smile briefly, a true one, one that isn't shown often, and tilts their head slightly with a curious look.

The deity is not surprised by the soft snort of amusement Sam makes already used to their brothers spirit being lifted at the smallest of gestures they show in private (they do however take pleasured pride in the fact this makes Sam's soul lighten, shifts the guilt and pain in his soul until it is a little better, a little less pain filled and without their notice a smile finds its way to their lips and stays there.)

"Do you wish to use my phone brother? Or shall we wait until your pseudo calls as he undoubtedly will." Seb–Bal? Hums quietly, patiently after voicing their question and Sam can't help but blurt out what has bothered him for so long because surely his sibling is uncomfortable being called by different names all the time.

"Doesn't it annoy you for me to switch between Sebastian and Balthazar constantly? I know you asked me not to tell anyone in when we went to Stanford but surely you are irritated I continue to do so." He can't help but flush, after all why would this awe filling creature care what it is called as long as it is respected.

Sam jumps in surprise as his sibling laughs, a bright pure thing that sings and shines makes his true form hum and pulse, as they fold over crouching down so as not to topple their vessel over and he is confused. He doesn't realise it but he makes a confused churring low in his throat that sings to the deity in front of him, reminds his sibling of simpler times before their other siblings fought one another but they shake the memories off and grin widely at the sibling that counts to them the most right now.

"I don't mind what you call me Sammy, Sam, Sam-ae-l~! Call me whatever is more comfortable for you, Balthazar is just the nearest translation I could find for my name in your language. Besides," they shrug in a nonchalant manner, "I respond to anything you call me though it would be wonderful if you would call be Baal!"

Sam snorts and laughs at the same time, it comes out as a choking wheeze as he shakes in amusement. Lord? Bal wanted him to call them lord? He snorts again then laughs, he dissolves into a giggling mess of limbs as his sibling smirks smugly giving away that they had only said that to amuse him and he can feel his heart swell in affection and love and something so pure he can't name but he doesn't mind because he somehow knows the English language does not contain such a word.

And Sam doesn't know it but Balthazar can feel that in his soul, can see his soul hum and sing peacefully and relax when they make him laugh and it fills them with a sense of accomplishment they haven't felt since before the fall when their father was actually in heaven and Gabriel went around telling them and others when Father was proud of their actions. It makes them thrum in happiness and contentment as their Sammy, their siblings soul lightens as some of the taint shifts and shrink and reveals the infinite shining supernova of a soul that was encased in Sam's mortal body.

Balthazar smiles as they dramatically flops onto the bed, arm connecting with Sam's chest and pulling him down with them, snorting at Sam's exaggerated groan of annoyance. (Balthazar is beyond happy and they thank a father that hasn't truly been a father for millennia for their split second decision to join Stanford giving them the chance to meet Sammy, their precious little brother to which they would gladly hand up the world on a silver platter if just to make him smile.)

"Whatever bitch." Sam has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, toes curling as the stress seeped out of his body and he doesn't even spare a single thought at curling up into his siblings side just focuses on the warmth of Balthazar's vessel and turns into a veritable pile of goo with a happy sigh.

His sibling just snorts softly, not seeming to even notice as they wrap themselves protectively around him with a muttered, "shut up shorty" and Sam can't help but snicker softly as he buries his head into Balthazar's shoulder. Smiling uncontrollably as he thinks of what people that can't see Balthazar's true form would think of that, they'd probably be confused beyond belief because the French vessel containing Balth is shorter than him and Sam cannot lie when asked if it amuses him because it does simply for the fact that he is so small and fragile compared to the infinity that was Balthazar.

Sam doesn't know how long he lays there with his sibling, at peace feeling tranquil like he always does wrapped up in his friends arms but when Bobby rings Balthazar is shaking him awake gently while quietly talking to his surrogate father on Sam's phone. The sky outside is star spotted and he wonders briefly if that is because Balth has set their apartment in France, the entrance a subspace in America that transports them into it more for Sam's benefit then Balth's.

"He's awake now Mr. Singer," Balthazar snaps his fingers silently, conjuring up a tray of breakfast foods for Sam to eat while conversing with Bobby and he can't stop or want to stop the swell of gratitude and affection that curls and settles pleasantly into his very being as he sleepily leans against the Frenchman's shoulder humming.

"Bobby, why'd you make Balth wake me up." He is tired and he is whinging, Sam knows both of these things but he has temporarily forgotten Balthazar telling him why Bobby would be calling him (Dean Winchester is saved) so he doesn't care, he just wants sleep and perhaps to eat the delicious food his sib had snapped up for him.

"I'da called later if I knew ya were in a different time zone boy but know that I've woken you up I'll tell you. And this may be hard to hear but I've done all the tests I can think of or find and I'm damn sure that your brother is alive." Bobby pauses, catching his breath or prepping himself for the disbelief he thinks he'll receive from his next rant. "Dean is alive Sam and I promised not to tell you but he's mighty angry he is thinks you sold yer soul for his ain't know that that Sebastian of yers stopped ya from being a damn idjit."

"Can, can Baal come with me to meet him Bobby?" And Sam knows its mean to spring this on his sibling but he just can't deal with Dean’s bullshit today not now, not when he feels disgusted with himself at drinking demon blood something he feels would make him hate himself even if it had been an addiction. He just cannot see Dean with the knowledge he had demonic blood in his veins he had willingly drunk and he is determined to let Balthazar burn it out of his system when he is ready to accept himself but for now Yellow Eye's blood would remain a part of him.

"O'course boy you just make sure that friend o' yours don't break nuthin of mine ya hear me Samael." There was a fake disapproving tone to his speech but the relief under that was near palpable and Sam felt slightly guilty for not updating his father in all but blood on his health. Sam thinks there is a sadness in his father’s tone, sadness at the fact his son had to have company to face his brother lest he run away in terror.

"Course he won't Balth will be too busy trying to make me eat enough food to serve an army to destroy any of your stuff Bobby." He snorts quietly, looking down at his tray filled with food and thinks that there might be some truth to that statement but the fact Balthazar is smirking smugly cements that he will indeed be fighting to eat a normal amount of food.

"Thanks for telling me Bobby, I appreciate it more than you know and I'm happy Dean is back and alive I am but I'm tired and Balth's shoved a tray of food on my lap do you mind if we swing by tomorrow after I'm more stable to see him?" He briefly thinks it’s stupid of him to ask because of course Bobby won't mind Dean,  _Dean_  is the one who will mind not Bobby never Bobby.

"Course not boy you’re my son in all but blood and I'd be dammed if I didn't value yer health over reunions as long as I know you’re alive." That, that was real disapproval and he made a sheepish apologetic noise in the back of his throat that made his father sigh. "Just keep me updated will ya next time you need to disappear? A voicemail or two so I know yer still alive and kicking ass."

"Promise." Sam swears he can hear the eye roll Bobby makes and he huffs out a laugh as his father echoes his statement, leaning heavily against Balthazar as he stares listlessly at his food no longer in the mood to eat not when everything reminds him of Dean right now.

He thinks he hears Balthazar sigh but before he can focus on whether or not the—angel? not angel?—had there is a soft click of fingers and instead of the pastries he was staring at there is burgers and fries and greasy food that would make even Dean turn away in disgust and relief floods him. Sam is glad his friend seems to know that this food wouldn't make him think of his brother and for some reason he gets the urge to hunch a shoulder in the blondes direction as if something will show his gratitude through limbs his soul remembers of a past life. And well, if he bites the food hard enough for Balthazar to hear his teeth clacking in bitterness they don't mention it and continue humming.

When Sam's finished he leans against his siblings shoulder and yearns for the soft comfort of their arms around him as they sing him to a sleep without nightmares they leave him with nausea every time he wakes. He leans on the possible angels shoulder and he cries and they hum and Sam feels as if he is hurtling somewhere with no landing but Balthazar starts singing in that strange language and the sensation is replaced by warmth and love and a feeling of contentment Sam thinks he should remember.

He doesn't, not yet.

* * *

 

Sam stares silently at his brother, greedily drinks in the sight of him through the doorway and he waits for Dean to explode with accusations and demands that had been always been a constant in Sam's life. Sam is shocked when Dean punches him, throwing all his weight into the blow and there is a faint cracking noise as Sam slams into the floor nose breaking as the last of his trust for Dean wavers and fades to a mere spec.

Samael does not listen to his rants and interrogations, he is overcome with a sense of deja vu and pushes to remember as why the abandonment of a brother’s trust seems familiar. Sam does not see Balthazar breaking Dean's nose in retribution, neither does he see them throw the righteous man out of the room.

Bobby helps Sam up and too the kitchen table whilst he is disorientated and the brunette cradles his neck trying to remember, he asks quietly for pain killers but his Father -whyhadnthisfirstonehelpedwhydidhissecondonehatehim- has already placed the pills in front of him as Balthazar searches the freezer for an ice pack. Yet he still fruitlessly tries to remember why it had felt as if he had seen it happen before and to someone who was a part of him and he apart of them.

It refuses, not yet something whispers. Not yet, not now and he stops at the pure rage and loathing and love and desperation and belonging that voice fills him with.

Sam does not try again. The others plan to visit a psychic named Pamela, he sits and waits to leave.

* * *

 

They arrive at Pamela's house a day late, partially because Dean refused to believe Sam saying he hadn't made a deal and partially because Balthazar was adamant Sam would be driving with him in his mustang (which will set Dean on edge it will infuriate Dean later after War and after Sam has released Lucifer but for now it is only because it means Sam won't be with him and he won't be able to hear Sam say what he wants him to say). 

Pamela smacks Bobby round the head for being late, but he just grumbles angrily about it being those bratty car fanatics’ faults and the admittedly beautiful psychic glares at Dean and at Balthazar but gives Sam a smile. It's clear as day that her powers are real if she can tell which two of them are the bratty car fanatics and a laugh tumbles out of his lips before he can stop himself. He grins as she beckons them inside, explaining that they were going to do a séance to see what raised Dean from hell and the smile drops at the reminder that angels might exist.

Sam could feel his breath getting quicker and he wondered if he was going to have a panic attack, because all he could think was what if angels do exist? Surely that means Balthazar was the angel they were supposedly named after but then that would mean he was sent to watch over the abomination weren't they? To make sure Sam doesn't screw up the world along with his family.

But the sad little smile on his siblings face as they brush their hand against his makes him sigh in relief, they wouldn't leave him to fend for himself. Sam tries for a smile and he knows it comes out more like a grimace but Balthazar seems to be happy just with Sam breathing properly, he feels relieved and then guilty when Balthazar sits between him and Dean.

"I invoke conjure and command thee, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke conjure and command thee, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke conjure and command thee, appear unto me before this circle." Pamela chants three times and Sam is awash with unease and trepidation, he feels as if something horrible will happen to her if they continue.

Balthazar squeezes his hand gently, brushing their thumb on the back of it and he calms slightly and he doesn't notice Dean frowning or Bobby's sigh of relief he just focuses on his siblings’ presence and draws strength from it. Pamela gets a name, Castiel the angel of Thursday, the youngest in Michael's garrison but he doesn't remember how he knows this, he warns her not to try and see his true form. Sam jerks his hands away in fear but not for himself for Pamela because she was helping them and Bobby and Dean are glaring at him but she looks relieved that he done that and Balthazar is smiling softly, proud of him and he doesn't understand until she starts thanking him.

"Thank you Sam, truly I had not listened to Castiel's warning and my eyes were about to be burnt out by his true form." Pamela is clasping his hands, a grateful smile on her face and all Sam can find himself able to do is smile back even though he feels as if something has been unlocked inside him he didn't know about before.

"Can you look to see if there are any locked memories inside my mind? I feel as if something broke in that séance but it hasn't unlocked fully as if there were multiple locks on a door, inside a room that bears memories I don't know about." Sam asks quietly when the others are distracted, but not Balthazar he can tell but doesn't mind because his sibling will love him unconditionally, the only one besides his mother and Jess.

"Sure thing Samael sit down and let me take a look at that noggin of yours, if they ask just say I was checking to make sure you’re coping alright with the sudden return of Dean." He's confused and goes to ask her why she said Dean and not brother but she winks and shushes him, "I'm a psychic Sam but I won't tell if you’re not ready."

It makes Sam feel sick that someone besides Balthazar knows but he feels as if he can trust Pamela so he lets it go, sits down on the couch face to face with her and trusts her not to look at or at least talk about the things he doesn't want too. He obediently holds her hands, closes his eyes when she asks and goes through the breathing exercises the doctors he went to about his panic attacks had recommended and Sam goes lax in Pamela's hands as she coaxes the answers he needs out of his mind.

Two hours later Sam's pressed himself impossibly close to Balthazar desperately seeking affection from his sibling and, digging his nails into his thighs as he sorts through the memories of his past lives which started in the time of the plague. He tries to ignore the part of him screaming that that wasn't it that there was more to him, more memories because if he couldn't handle being able to remember these he didn't want any more until he'd settled. Balthazar doesn't mind even though they're driving, they just start singing softly in that language no one in the world seems to speak and if Sam can understand parts of it well he doesn't tell and they don't ask.

* * *

 

It's been four months since they visited Pamela, four months since Dean was raised from hell to do heavens dirty work and now it was Halloween. In other words Samhain one of the sixty six seals that need to be broken to pop Lucifer out of his cage and start Armageddon and Samael still hadn't met the infamous Castiel, angel of Thursday.

Samael let out a frustrated sigh as Dean slammed the Impala's door closed, clearly refusing to believe him about there being two witches, and the so called righteous man wouldn't even look at the research that made Sam certain there was two and not one. Like come one Dean get your head out of your ass just because you’re the "righteous man" doesn't mean that the text that expressively shows Samhain needs a witches body and then a spell after the dead body is incorrect and there is only one.

When he enters their motel room Sam is met with the sight of two angels the one in a trench coat who must be Castiel, his brother’s saviour, had wings that vaguely resembled butterflies on his back compressed tightly to his back. Past his vessels face, flipped and pinned in on himself so many times it was hard to see what his true form looked like but he got the impression of deer antlers, an impression of eight eyes that could only be a spider, a spotted bear like shape some kind of panda, and the stinging taste of salt water and sounds reflecting back his position which instinctively made him think of whales.

The other one, they unnerved Sam and he was filled with terrified awe, awe of both of them but his instinct screamed the black man was dangerous. None of his faces or wings were recognisable and he shuddered in apprehension, he would not trust this angel no matter what he said because Sam had been raised a hunter and anything that looked at him as if he were prey was not to be trusted.

He has his gun out before he even realises it, body instinctively grasping at the closest weapon even if it wouldn't do anything to an angel and while it might be pointed at Castiel, Samael has no illusion that the angels do not know he would shoot the one in the black vessel first. Sam tenses up even more when Dean pushes it down, pushes away his admittedly minuscule defence but at least it had made him feel a vague fucking sense of safety and he has to force himself to breath even if he wants to run away from the holy beings in his and Dean's motel room he doesn't.

What escapes his lips is most likely blasphemy as he stumbles over words, stutters out an  _oh god you’re an **angel**_ , with the reverence that a man in the desert would say water. Sam's hands are shaking as he thanks the trench coat wearing angel for saving his brother and they are shaking when he offers a hand to the man-angelhesanactualangel- in front of him, Sam immediately scolds himself because how dare he think such a pure holy being would taint itself with the likes of him.

"Sam Winchester I have heard a lot about you," Castiel states solemnly, clasping his hand in between his vessel's. Unnaturally blue eyes flicking to Dean, and of course its Dean of course it is, then Castiel continues. "The boy with the demon blood."

And Sam doesn't know it but his soul  _screams_ , agony at the fact angels only knew him as the boy with the demon blood and it hurts him deeply that such holy pure beings could condemn him for his sins when Dean is practically sin incarnate. Try as Sam might he cannot stop his face from dropping and as his blood steps forward and he steps back something behind that lock in his mind wails despairs at the black man as if he should know him.

A name forms on his lips silently, an inaudible Uriel, before Castiel is introducing him with that very same name and Sam would leave if this wasn't important he would leave and find a church and pray, beg God for guidance. Samael aches at the sight of his brother, and he stiffens at the thought because if he has memories of Uriel than what could he be but a fallen angel, an angel that must have sided with Lucifer to be turned human and he wants more than ever to leave this room and never come back.

Sam doesn't know it but Uriel saw his name slip past the lips of Lucifer's true vessel and Uriel is a curious being perhaps to curious for his own good but he nudges at Sam's memories and finds the memories of his  _brother, his brother Samael_. Uriel knows that Sam doesn't remember and it stings in some emotion that must be sadness that he pushes down, Anael had recently started remembering and they needed to collect her grace first and foremost.

(Uriel makes sure to look for Samael's first human memories and he promises his favourite brother to give him his grace back, swears to himself that once Lucifer is free he will return the youngest archangels memories and grace and that Lucifer and Samael and Uriel can pretend like the fall never happened pretend Lucifer never rebelled and oh, oh his brother his Sammy had seen Gabriel who ran and hid and if Uriel didn't control the rookeries guards he would have too but the three maybe four? of them can pretend the fall never happened and Uriel was positive Lucifer would listen to Samael if he didn't want the apocalypse he's certain.)

 _It makes an odd sort of sense,_ Uriel thinks quietly after leaving the three of them to argue,  _that the two archangels made for each other as soulmates would be reunited as the vessel and the adversary._  He leaves town, tells himself he has to make sure Anael is still in the psychiatric ward, tells Castiel that through all the angels mental connection but to himself, just himself Uriel can admit he's running away from his favourite brother because he is unable to stand the despair ridden soul the kindest and calmest archangels had become.

Back at the motel Samael sits and ponders why he knew Uriel's name and why know that he concentrates on it, he had felt pain and longing at the sight of him but Sam doesn't stay long. He looks up at Castiel and at Dean and Sam can see they want privacy by the way they're murmuring to each other, close enough that their knees knock, with their heads bent down close together to blend the words together. Sam wonders if they even notice him leave with the supplies for a stake out but he shrugs it off and heads to the graveyard.

Night gradually creeps in and with it kids fill the streets with laughter and candy, random teenagers ditching open toilet rolls at houses they pass by running. Free without the knowledge that the monsters they dress up are real, and Sam smiles softly, fondly at the sight he is glad he can protect this this visceral feeling if his job being worth something filling him and a happy laugh escapes before he can even fathom a reason for happiness but he is grateful at being capable of emotion.

That's all he can really ask for he thinks, shifting silently as he sees the witches-ha! There is two-enter the crypt together and Samael slips in noiselessly behind them as an unease settles deep in his stomach. Samael feels as if he won't come out of this hunt the same, as if something inside of him will shift and his world will tumble off its axis in response but, he ignores it pushes it down and hardly dares to breath as the witches prepare for Samhain's rise.

And he knows, God does he  _know_  that he should shoot them both in the head save this town but the ritual captivates him like nothing in the life of being Sam Winchester  _-the boy with the demon blood-_  has before and a heady rush of power and reverence not his own shoots through him. Before he realises it he's gasped at the feeling and they are looking at him but they look awed at his presence and he  _doesn't understand **why doesn't he understand his head hurts it hurts and he's whimpering but the girl is hushing him as the male is frozen in awe.**_

Then the pain stops and suddenly there are even more memories than the ones that start in the dark ages but Samael does not dare shift through them now, then because it feels right he kisses the crown of her head gently; an almost fond pulsing settling in his chest and he knows that Dean will notice but he doesn't care at the moment.

Samael stands gracefully, seemingly ethereal as the pair of witches finish preparing for the rise of Samhain and he shivers in delight as the prickling of pure energy skims across his skin playfully as if it belonged next to him. It wraps up all around him as the female witch sacrifices the male and Samhain enters his body, he can see the man’s soul radiant and content and Samael does not know why or understand but he steps forward and presses a kiss to the witch's head.

As he stares down at Samhain fondly, Samael somehow knows it will listen to him so he orders it to leave and it does it leaves in the brand spanking new vessel and Samhain leaves to walk the Earth for the first time in centuries. Then Sam cradles Tracy Davis' face in his hands and she smiles widely up at him, accepting and reverent to one of the two beings she worships.

"They will think you let this happen if you don't kill me my lord," Tracy's voice is soft and worried and full of love for an angel that hasn't been one in nearly three centuries and certainly hasn't felt like one for millennia. "Can you not hear them milord? The enemies think you want to stop the seals from breaking and your brother thinks the angels do. I don't mind, I accept my fate but I will not let you suffer for a petty human Archangel Samael. Angel of Death."

"Thou that art faithful of me shall forever be such trouble, my little ones." Sam gives a soft sigh, presses another gentle fatherly kiss to Tracy's head then he snaps it quickly and drops her body on the alter, makes it look like Samhain had killed her before he left.

Samael steps back with a soft sorrowful whine at losing one of the only who pray to him, who had prayed through his absence and as Dean breaks door the door he drops to his knees. He bows his head in silent apology to the radiant souls before him as the reapers appear silently to take them and as Samael tells his brother they lost the seal and Samhain split as soon as he was summoned he can see Uriel smile briefly at him and warmth thrums through him as he talks into the archangel’s connection.

 _'Hello little brother,'_  Uriel's voice makes him weep in joy and if Dean thinks it's from guilt he doesn't particularly care.  _'Did the host's rejection damage your grace, little Samael.'_

Sam crumples into Deans arms and as Castiel flies them to the motel he replies, in a joyful voice.  _'I’ve missed you brother, so so much I've missed you all so much since the host rejected me because of the humans misconceptions.'_  Samael cries to his brother, and he does not care if the other archangels hear him because his brother loved him still and had asked of his graces wellbeing.

 _'We all grieved when you fell little one, we couldn't look for you there were no vessels and by the time we could you had been reborn graceless.'_  The regret and guilt were thick in Uriel's tone and all Samael could do was thrum in happiness, push it through their bond and unknowingly relieve the other archangels of his forgiveness.

Uriel appeared next to Sam, invisible to all but his brother’s eyes and as the fallen angel wept he sat down and stroked his brother’s hair, softly humming an enochian lullaby.  _'Sleep little brother',_  he whispered quietly aloud,  _'sleep and rejoice for I have found your grace but it cannot be released until Lucifer has risen.'_

 _'Bring it to me?'_  Sam knows he is being unfair but now that he remembers his soul aches for the grace it knows should be there. Uriel gives an exasperated snort, smirking lightly at him but nods and smooths his hair back once more before disappearing in a near silent flutter from wings that he now knows are made of stardust.

* * *

 

Sam knows he's in denial about his fall or well rejection from the host, even with his grace Uriel had retrieved for him sometime between unlocking Anael's memories and visiting the meteor tree. Samael knows this like he knows Dean will eventually give up on him if he hasn't already so he focuses on the grace container hanging around his neck shining a soft supernova of power and Samael cements his reality on the fact he does indeed exist.

Sitting in a barn with his blood, an old sibling and a demon that has been more truthful than Dean ever has, Sam breathes out slowly and concentrates on the container of grace to relax before their plan starts. Sam can tell this won’t work out like they want but honestly does not care if Alastair survives as long as his brother, Uriel because he is the only brother on earth Sam views as such, survives he doesn't mind.

So when Castiel (and does that bot mean to fall from god? does that not mean he shall turn his back on heaven for Dean? destroy himself for a man that will tear him apart as soon as he makes a mistake?) and Uriel walk in Sam's breath hitches so minutely no one but the other archangel notices. No one notices when Uriel's grace wraps around him exuding peace and comfort and safety either.

Then again he is just the boy with the demon blood to them, destined to release Lucifer and his wrath upon humanity unwillingly but unwillingly is the keyword in that phrase. Lucifer would only ever destroy humanity because of the fact his True Vessel felt compelled to save them not because Samael felt compelled to save  _him_. They don't realise that when the final seal is broken that Sam will accept and heal Lucifer, do not realise that means there is no adversary to fight because the adversary will be  ** _grateful_**  to humanity for keeping his mate alive.

Samael takes quiet comfort in the fact his brothers will not kill each other even their fighting is inevitable they won’t kill each other just fight until they find common ground to stand on. He takes quiet serenity in that fact, and in Uriel's grace, in his own grace proof of his existence and when Anael shatters the container with holding the other part of her Samael takes the quiet comfort his sister gives him and smiles softly.

Samael smiles because Anael had refused to bed Dean on the basis of hurting her favourite of the archangels, he smiles because she wraps her grace around him briefly, smiles because her grace is filled with love and acceptance and relief that his rejection from the host hurt neither him nor his grace. Samael smiles because in that brief moment that feels like an eternity Anael, a sister he had watched from fledgling hood till his rejection, pushes her love towards him and assures him of her loyalty to Samael no matter what side he chooses in the war.

(Sam is amused at the fact she thinks there will be a war but then he remembers that sometimes it is hard for the archangels to follow their own goals after what had happened to the first to use the free will they were given. And he remembers that for a seraph it would be even harder to fathom the idea that a war between brothers would not happen especially when the two created to parallel them are on the path to desolation between them. Samael sighs and lets it go and waits.)

He thinks about telling Dean who, what he is and tries to crush the thought before it can fully form because he would like to pretend a little while longer that his human brother does not hate him. That Dean is not disgusted with the choices he has made during his life. Does not wish to have the excuse of not being family to kill him with.

Samael fails.

* * *

 

When they enter the warehouse Castiel asked to meet Dean at Samael can't help the impressed whistle he lets out. It's destroyed, ceiling caved in, catwalks and steel beams all over the place. It unnerves him. By Dean's restless pacing as they go further into the building Sam can tell it isn't only himself feeling uneasy.

"Holy fuck!" Dean's voice echoes off of broken walls, collapsed ceiling. And Sam is set further on edge by both the sound and the giant enochian banishment sigil painted on one of the remaining walls.

Both Winchesters are silent, contemplating what may have happened before a familiar voice groaned out in pain and the eldest scurried towards the sound. The vessel, for it is only the vessel left on earth, panics which is only amplified when Dean tries to grill him on what Castiel wanted to tell them.

Samael lets out an inaudible whine of fear, and clutches on his the grace hanging from his neck on a chain. If they had gotten to the warehouse sooner it would have been banished somewhere, near impossible to find on its lonesome in a container made to cloak the withheld presence.

As Samael stands there, staring at the sigil he knows. Knows without a single doubt that he is most certainly in denial, terrified bone deep, and soul deep denial. He can admit his denial, he can admit he will drown in it before he accepts the truth.

Samael can accept the heavy weight of locked wings, heads and senses and eyes bound in ways that are a constant oppressive force wriggling in the back of his conscious. Sam will admit his denial may bring about his damnation and he is content in the thought that stronger men and women have been unwilling to concede they are the cause of their own ruin.

He takes a deep breath in and only lets it out only when his lungs start to burn, when the black stars of unconsciousness start to spot in his vision. Samael breaths out and lets his current worries fade in the wake of Castiel's re-education of heaven's rules.

Sam watches in silence as Dean interrogates him, Jimmy Novak the vessel that would never stop giving, and turns a blind eye to the desperation and grief saturating Dean's stature. Sighing softly, a mix of fond exasperation and irritation swelling up in him as his brother starts to treat Jimmy like a soldier. Barking orders at the man who would give up his world for the safety of his daughter.

Wordlessly he follows the two out, silent grief washing over him in a flash at always being the last thing on Dean's mind other than the ingrained _take care of Sammy, Dean._  That their father drilled into the eldest head at the tender age of four.

Later in the motel, Sam looks at Jimmy Novak and he looks at the grace that lingers in the man’s body, betraying his emotions. He tells the man to stay put while he goes to the vending machine across the parking lot. Samael knows the vessel, the man Jimmy Novak, will not be there when he returns.

For the first time in a long, long time Sam does not feel disgusted with himself for ignoring Dean's orders. It does not rankle his instincts to defy the man he was conditioned to be loyal towards no matter what. For the first time in a while he takes a metaphorical leap of faith and prays for a way to repent all of which he has done to humanity.

Samael takes another deep, lung scorching breath and as he breathes out he feels a little lighter, a little less restricted and chained. He give the sky a gentle, gratitude filled smile even though he knows his father is somewhere on earth but still, still the youngest of heavens flocks don't know of their fathers absence.

So Samael smiles at the sky and basks in the rush of warmth that Uriel's and Gabriel's and Balthazar's love and happiness gives him. Curls his toes up and lets out a breathy laugh as he bends down to retrieve his drink and his soul  _sings_  to let his pleasure and contentment known.

He soaks in the positive affections given so readily by the other archangels and almost giddily takes out his phone when it dings with Balthazar's text tone. Sam snorts, then chuckles and before he realises it he's out right laughing at the message as he makes his way back to their motel room.

**From: wine mum**

To: Samshine

_Calm down there midget, don't want to get to excited do we ;)_

It is possibly the best message Samael has ever received from anyone. It has the added bonus of soothing the burn that sparks in his heart when Dean looks at him as if Sam represents all the mistakes the eldest had ever made.

Samael holds it close to his heart as they follow the tracks Jimmy Novak left in his wake.

* * *

Demon blood. It burns, devours him greedily as if he were being consumed by it when it is the other way around. It tears through Sam's vein, burns a path to his heart, pulses and lights up his insides like molten lava like it always has and always will. It latches onto his very soul and an echoing laugh reverberates in his head.

Samael is dizzy with the rush of pain and power the blood of the forsaken gives him, he gasps, a strangled sound. He remembers he has something to do, someone to save? His mind blurs and his world spins on its axis as he tries to concentrate past the feeling of wrong aching through his bones.

It is an eternity. It is barely even a minute.

He stands, slowly gracefully. Danger is seeping from his very being, a gasp, a grunt, he twists and pulls and pulls and  _pulls_. The demon is gone. The blood is like holy fire in his veins, burning, ravaging his body and his soul.

He starts to scream. His voice is gone, he can't quite seem to remember his name but he knows the people in front of him. The sight of them drown him in information.

Dean Winchester born 1979, 24th of January, The Righteous Man, The Michaels Sword. Men of Letters, Descendant of Cain and Abel, the True Vessel of the Archangel Michael. Brother of Samael Winchester (1983, 2nd of May). Brother of Adam Milligan (1990, 29th of September).

Jimmy Novak (1973, 10th of July) spouse of Amelia Novak, father to Claire Novak. Vessel of Castiel.

Castiel (circa, 1 million B.C) Angel of Thursday, Saviour of the Righteous Man, #1 Liability to the apocalypse happening. Belonging to the Archangel Balthazar, currently apart of Michaels garrison. Unruly, unreliable, a risk to the end. Gabriel's favourite. Little Brother.

Samael, Samael. The name rings familiar in his head for what feels like a second, an eternity? Memories flood him and he howls as if magma is pouring over him. He thinks he does, he doesn't, and his soul writhes.

Samael, youngest Archangel. Father of Samhain. Van Gogh, now a famous painter, back then a joke and an embarrassment. Church Hill, a strategist that helped win the Second World War. Marjorie Winston, a founder of the American Men of Letters otherwise unknown. Samael Winchester, the boy with the demon blood, an abomination, the youngest Archangel, half a soul the other half belonging to Lucifer.

Lucifer, the morning star, God's brightest son. Condemned and cast down for using the free will all angels were given. Adversary. Devil. Warmonger.

His mouth feels parched, he feels as if he had fasted for seven days and seven nights. No food, no water. Samael takes a shuddering gasp, the sound drowned out by Jimmy Novak's plea to be used a vessel rather his daughter.

Samael's head pounds, his body burns and his soul oh how it  ** _screams_**.

Barely does he not laugh when Dean says he is disappointed in Samael, as if that was new news. The laughter leaves immediately when his lungs flare up in pain, when his intestines shift and his oesophagus closes up.

The blood of the forsaken drowns him in molten lava and ice so so cold it imitates magma. It laughs, loud and high, full of sadism and vaguely comes the thought.  _'Surely this is the Cage, **his**  Cage? What else could torture someone so intimately?_

The thought disappears near instantly. Samael cannot contain the bitter, jaded laugh that escapes as Dean locks him up inside Bobby's panic room. The taste of his free will being ripped away once again burns like bile in his throat.

He howls as it gets to his soul. His true voice locked up for nearly three and a half centuries leaks through his pain.

He weeps. He sleeps. He grieves the loss of a brother’s love. And lets it consume and drag him under in hopes that when he drowns in it he will be reborn in such a way that his brothers, the archangels, still will love him.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Give me a week or two to post the last two episodes of season four


End file.
